Legend
by Luna Miste
Summary: 'Not every story gets told from someone else. We all can't have biographers with us, documenting our lives.' A spirit documents her life and her adventures.


**A/N: Hey look! It's me Luna Miste, back from the dead! *looks at pitchforks* I'M WORKING ON THE ROOF CHAPTER THREE DON'T KILL ME! Okay, so now I'm in the Rise of the Guardians fandom.**

**I joined a forum and made an OC, and decided to write her back story.**

**This will be a multi-chapter fic. I'm not sure if I will have eventual JackxOC, but as of now, no. **

**The italics in the beginning is a journal entry.**

**And here is Chapter 1!**

**~ Legend Chapter 1: A Pen is Put To Paper ~**

_Not every story gets told from someone else. We all can't have biographers with us, documenting our lives._

_So we have to take matters into our own hands._

_I'm writing this journal in case I fade, or if anyone cares enough to read it._

_My name is not important, or what it used to be for that matter._

_What is important is my story._

_I was born in the year 1198, in a small village in Germany. My parents owned a farm, and I lived there with my brother Hugo, who was born in 1208._

_We were very poor._

_I remember before Hugo came along, being plagued by nightmares, and fearing the dark. This was during the Dark Ages, when Pitch Black, the boogeyman ruled._

_Fear was everywhere._

_The one thing I could rely on was music. It was always there for me, like a last hope. I loved it so much that I started to save up so I could make my own music. _

_It took me four years, but it was worth it when I held the piccolo for the first time. I was then 10, and Hugo was just a little baby. My goal was to make sure he didn't have to face the nightmares alone, and even if he did, he could create something that would stop it._

_But why stop there?_

_I began to play my music (when I figured the piccolo out, of course) for the children. The smiles on their faces made everything worthwhile. Soon, many of the children could fight off their own nightmares. It was like I created a beacon of light in a dark world._

_Our village celebrated me, and our victory over the nightmares. I even got to take my brother out for a picnic near the mountains._

_It was a nice spring day in May, in the year 1214 and the sun was shining. The day almost seemed perfect._

_"May you play me a song?" Hugo asked me while pulling on my dress. It was my mother's, who gave it to me for my birthday._

_I ruffled his hair, "Of course, anything for you."_

_The music seemed to pour out of me. It was all of my emotions in one song. I could see Hugo smiling at me, then his face turning pale._

_The rest is fuzzy._

_The most I can make out is sending my brother away, a black bear, falling, gold eyes, and blood._

_I remember pain coming from all parts of my body, and wishing it could go away. _

_Death became a wish for me in that moment._

_But then I saw the moon._

_It seemed to wrap me in its light, and it made the pain go away. I don't know how long it held me, but when it let go, I felt renewed._

_As thanks, I looked back up at the moon._

_"You are the Piperess, the spirit of music." It told me._

_That was all it ever did._

* * *

The Piperess made her way down the street in London. It was the year 1658, and it was Christmas Eve. She had never been religious, but had still put up a tree in her Treehouse. The Piperess never got any presents, but she still felt like she was participating in the holiday of wonder.

"Aye, hope North'll have a good delivery night." She said as she looked up to the moon. Sometimes people could see and hear her, if they had a true heart for music. But those people were few, so she wrote in a journal and talked to the moon instead. It was her 444th year as a spirit, and she was used to being alone.

She considered going back to the Treehouse, but she wanted to spend the holiday with someone, even a stranger who couldn't see her. It was the Piperess's belief that no one- not even Pitch Black- should spend a holiday alone. But that didn't mean she was going to march down to his lair with a ham. No, after what he had done he didn't deserve it.

The Piperess followed a man she spotted running. It seemed like he was running to his family. She smiled as she pulled the hood of her cape up and continued to follow him, avoiding people so she couldn't pass through them. The man eventually came up to a small cottage, and opened the door. Slipping through, she made her way inside to the warmth and comfort of a small family home.

The wife came up to her husband, and they started to talk softly. The Piperess couldn't understand the words they were saying, but it didn't sound good. Suddenly, the wife started to cry.

"No, don't cry." The Piperess said. She pretended to pat her shoulder, putting her hand an inch above.

"My daughter! My precious daughter." The woman screamed.

The man held her in his arms. "The pastor said that we should be happy that she died without sin."

"I'd rather have her here with me. On Christmas Eve, our daughter is dead."

The Piperess backed up. She pulled her piccolo out of her pouch and racked her brain for a happy song. 'Noel, Noel' came to mind. She raised the piccolo to her mouth and began to play.

From what the Piperess had worked out about her powers, those who did not believe in her could still hear her songs. It somehow got worked into their brain and made it seem like they had come up with singing it themselves.

"Noel, Noel." The man whispered in song.

"Noel, Noel." The woman responded.

"Born is the ki-ng of I-is-rael." They sang together. The Piperess figured it was time to leave the family to figure things out on their own. She opened the door to leave them alone. Continuing her walk, she put together more pieces of the story. Apparently, the family, whose last name was Overland, had a young daughter and an even younger son. The young girl had apparently caught influenza, and had not survived. Her father had made funeral preparations, and had run home to his family on Christmas Eve.

"Why must children die?" The Piperess looked up at the moon. "They have yet to experience the true essence of life. And before you leave me hanging in silence again, I understand the balance. But... why does it have to be so unfair?"

She left the moon with that question before strolling to the side of town. The Piperess opened up the pouch at her waist and pulled out a silver bell. She shook the bell and whispered:

"Treehouse."

After she whispered, the Piperess, tossed the bell and it created a portal, similar to a door. She stepped through it and found herself in the comfort of her home. Located in a rainforest, she had problems with humidity but no problems with temperature.

The bell portal closed behind her as she stepped into the 'kitchen' part of the treehouse. It wasn't really a kitchen, more of a cabinet and a table. The Piperess didn't need to eat very much, only drink water occasionally. She pulled out a glass and opened a bottle of water she had stored. While pouring it, she started to sing quietly.

"Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree..."

German was her first language, but most spirits worked using English. Gradually, the Piperess had learnt the hard language, and now used it most of the time. She took a sip from the glass and walked into her 'bedroom', which was really just a hammock and a nightstand. The Piperess was just about to put the glass down when she heard a rip.

She cursed under her breath as she looked at the bottom of her dress. A tear had made its way onto the burgundy floor length dress. Again. She had worn this dress for her entire existence, and was not ready to give it up. The Piperess bent down to pull the dress from where it was caught, and went in search of a sewing needle. She looked through a few drawers and found one. While she was stitching up the tear, she started to reminisce about her past life. Before she had become the Piperess.

She found that she was starting to forget some parts.

So she pulled out a journal.

And wrote her story.

Not all of it, just the beginning.

She vowed to keep this journal, and write her story until it was done.

When she had finished an entry, the Piperess felt accomplished. More accomplished than she had ever felt in her life.

"Aye," she said, stifling a yawn. "Maybe it's time for a nap."

The Piperess laid down on the hammock and closed her eyes.

* * *

Sleep for immortals is different from regular sleep. Immortals sleep rarely, but when they do, it can be as long as a day or a week. Which certainly explained the Piperess's panic when she woke up from a relaxing nap.

"How long did I sleep this time?" She mumbled. Her purple and blue-streaked hair was sticking up in all places, as shown by a mirror she kept on her nightstand. She pulled it back into a braid down her back, and then began to walk around the Treehouse.

The Treehouse had only three rooms: a bedroom, a living room, and a kitchen. Sonce it only had three rooms, the Treehouse did not have doors, but had open cut outs instead. She had thought about making it bigger, but did not have any means to make it bigger. It took long enough to build the three rooms she had already.

The Piperess walked up to the Christmas Tree, admiring its beauty. She loved the happy feeling it gave her. Then, something caught her eye. A small box, with a small layer of dust, was under the tree. She blew off the layer of dust to further inspect the package. It was a red box with a silver ribbon tied around it.

"Is this a present?" The Piperess wondered out loud. "Well, I guess it is. It's probably New Years now."

She opened the package. Inside was a small, gold rod and a note. She smiled quietly to herself as she read it.

**Twist rod to work.**

**Merry Christmas.**

**- North**

It wasn't a sentimental message, but he had at least put the time in to send a message. The Piperess didn't have any believers, and the Guardians, as well as other spirits, ignored her.

"They all thought.." She started to think.

"No!" The Piperess shouted. "I can't care what they think! It's not true! I didn't..." She started to cry.

From years of being ignored by everything on Earth, the Piperess was used to crying alone. She had almost lost everything that the Guardians stood for. Wonder, hope, dreams, even some of her memories were gone.

She stood up, still holding the box. A small part inside of her wondered if North had noticed her sadness. It wasn't like she hadn't been on the Nice List before. The Piperess picked up the rod and twisted it.

The rod started to grow. It grew longer, and started to develop a circle on the top. When it was done growing, it was a three foot staff with a sphere on top. Inside the sphere was a cerulean music note.

"Wow." That was all she had to say. She absent-mindedly moved the staff in an oval shape when something started to materialize beneath her feet. Eventually, an oval made of silver dust appeared. The Piperess felt, on instinct, to step on it. So she did.

The board immediately rose into the air. Smiling, the Piperess tried to steer it towards the doorway.

"Go straight!" She told it.

The board zoomed forward, without any regard for the Piperess's safety. Somehow she managed to stay on. The ride was both thrilling and terrifying. The Piperess was worried she would fall off, but she never did. It was like the sand had stuck to her shoes.

"I think I will call this a soundboard." The Piperess said. "Thank you, North."

Maybe she hadn't given up yet.

**A/N: So, did you like the Piperess? Some facts: her nickname is Piper, she is the Pied Piper, and she is on the Guardians' Side!**

**She can role play with your OCs at 'A Shadow in the Daylight' (that's a forum, btw).**

**So, tell me what you think! Reviews are appreciated, I'm working on a scrapbook of them. **


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